


Pining for that feathery tushy

by troubleseeker



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A/B/O, Alcohol Abuse, Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Challenge fic, Demon Dean, Drinking, Edging, First Time, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Top Dean/bottom Crowley, and because of that, breath play, demon dean/Crowley - Freeform, mentions of violence at the beginning, please tell me if I missed a tag, top Castiel/bottom Crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-07 07:30:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19204753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/troubleseeker/pseuds/troubleseeker
Summary: Crowley realizes his best demon buddie is still pining for his feathery friend, so he sets up a sexy aphrodisiac laced date for all of them to share! He only needs a bit of breath play and edging to convince him to spill the beans.Cas is a fully-fledged first timer and gets drugged, so it *is* non-con, if very enthusiastic non-con. Mind the tags!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First challenge fic for Lucier's cage! And I'm already late! Woo!

“You’re like a bloody teenager. It’s disgusting.” Crowley offered.

Dean raised an unimpressed eyebrow, dumping the mangled corpse of a serial rapist into a ditch; the fucker didn’t deserve anything better. Crowley stood a few steps behind him, shiny shoes firmly planted on concrete rather than mud.

“Do I even wanna know?”

“Of course you do, darling. You want to know everything. It’s what you do.”

“No, I don’t. You just don’t ever shut your mouth.” Dean dusted his hands on his jeans, blood smearing on the dark cotton.

“You inspire me, that’s all.” Crowley smiled with all his teeth, turning to walk back to the bar they’d dragged the dead guy out of. “Once I’m done suppressing my gag reflex. Come along, Dean. I’m in need of a whiskey.”

Dean glared at Crowley’s back for a few seconds before rolling his black eyes to green and stalking after the king of hell. He couldn’t help trying to get the last word, though.

“Fuck you.”

“Later, my dearest. Whiskey first.”

“Whiskey first.” Dean repeated in an overly gravelly voice, but he ducked through the crappy door anyway. They truly loved to hate each other.

The place was pretty empty, most of the patrons had fled once it became obvious that Dean wasn’t here to just rough up the cooling corpse in the ditch. Crowley found a seat at the bar, and Dean rounded the ancient wooden slab to pull several interesting looking bottles from the shelves. He set the whiskey down in front of his fuckbuddie and unscrewed the cap of something that promised to be 60 proof and marshmallow flavored.

“You’re a heathen.” Crowley conjured his personal glass out of thin air, not lowering himself to drinking straight out of the bottle like his favorite knight.  He wasn’t about to use any of the glassware the bar provided either. The dirty rag that sat halfway out of the sink looked older than the barback that had pointed out their target.

“First a teenager, then a heathen. You’re in a poetic mood.”

“And you’re off your tits lovesick.”

Dean snorted, eyeing the last two or three patrons that were looking everywhere but them. “So much for poetic.”

“Just admit you’re pining for that feathery tushy.”

Dean drained his bottle and debated between watermelon and birthday cake; he shrugged and dragged the cake flavored vodka closer. Crowley went on, gesturing with his glass.

“Squints a lot, has deep baby blue eyes. You know who I’m talking about.”

Dean tipped the bottle back, holding Crowley’s gaze as he drained half of it in one go. No need to swallow, just open the hatch and down it went. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“So what if I miss him? Not like I can just call him and invite him over for a nice candlelit dinner without him blabbing on about how he needs to save me. Self-righteous prick.”

“Great ass though.”

Dean shrugged, but he couldn’t really tell Crowley he was wrong, and he ended up nodding. Cas had a great ass; feathery or not. He took another long drink.

“This tastes like crap.”

“You sound surprised.”

“And you sound like you’re trying to talk me into tapping Castiel’s heavenly ass like it wouldn’t be a problem. So talk.”

“Oh darling, so forceful.” Crowley took a delicate sip; ice cubes clinking in his glass. “I like it.”

Dean set down his bottle with a loud clunk.

“Gonna get a whole lot more forceful if you don’t start making sense, Crowley.”

“Oooh.” Crowley cooed. “Makes me feel all tingly. You got any bite to go along with that bark?”

Dean rounded the bar, pressing up into the king’s personal space; not that the demon had much of it to begin with. With Crowley still on his barstool they were almost eye to eye.

“Last chance to do this the easy way.”

Crowley groped himself, spreading his legs as he leered. “Terribly sorry, darling. Seems I’m already hard.”

Their trip to the heavily graffitied toilets was more for show than care for public decency. Dean hadn’t cared who’d been watching last night, and he didn’t care who walked in on them now.  What he  _did_ need was a sturdy enough wall to hoist Crowley up against. His feet kicking in the air for the hell of it; they both knew there was no real danger here.

“Mind the suit, darling.”

Dean’s hand shifted from pressed lapels to Crowley’s throat. The suit was ruined already as far as he knew; people didn’t tend to wash their walls.

“Start talking.”

But Crowley just moaned, hips thrusting forward far enough to grind his dick against Dean’s hip. Eyes flicking to black, Dean grinned.

“You’re a glutton for punishment, you know that?”

“They don’t call it a cardinal sin for nothing, babe. Now quit the barki-ngh!”

A coil of demonic force curled itself around Crowley’s throat; holding him up and freeing Dean’s hands for other tasks. The king made a happy noise when they went straight to the front of his pants.

“Oh yeah. You know just what I need, don’t you Dean.” He wriggled a bit, humping forward into Dean’s hands. “Gonna give it to me?”

Dean spat in his hand in answer, curling it around Crowley’s erection and stroking him nice and slow. The demon breathed hard, biting his lip.

“Such a good boy.”

Dean’s eyebrows pulled together, but his hand kept up its easy strokes.

“If you’re not going to tell me what I want to know then shut up.”

Crowley rolled his eyes - his whole head doing a circle just to emphasize how little he cared - and Dean’s power pulled tighter in response; Crowley didn’t need to breathe to survive, but he did need air to talk.

Ignoring he delighted moans above him, Dean sank to his knees. His jeans were going to need a wash anyway, who cared about more grime. All he cared about right now was Crowley’s dick- uh ... information.

He licked at the head, looking up at Crowley’s flushed face through thick eyelashes. Waking up demonic had freed most of his hangups and all of his libido but he had  _not_ lost his tricks. He looked  _good_  like this. Crowley groaned.

Dean took his time. Sucking nice and deep and pulling all of his tricks out of his bag.

Humming while he deepthroated was one of Crowley’s favorites. That and tugging on the crown jewels balls while he did … well  _anything_  really.

All in all, he got Crowley to the edge; hard and fast. And then stopped.

Crowley glared at him, eyebrows scrunched together in clear discontent. Dean gave his king’s slit a chaste kiss, then mouthed his way down to a tempting hipbone. Crowley bucked, silently trying to command Dean to get back to business.

“You do know I’m not going to let you come till you tell me everything I want to know, don’t you?”

Crowley did. He wasn’t stupid. But he enjoyed this too much. Their games. Their banter. Their near rabid fucking when the mark overpowered Dean.

“You gonna give up the deets your highness? Or am I going to have to work you over some more?”

The tendril of power loosened long enough for Crowley to croak out some choice swearwords. Something about the hounds missing their bitch, but Dean cut it all off with a smile and went back to work. He nudged Crowley right up to the edge twice more before he bothered asking him to play ball again. He’d have inquired after the first time around, but Crowley’s royal ass wasn’t squirming enough yet.

The microsecond Crowley’s mouth was freed, Dean was showered in colorful threats involving his naughty bits. But they were having fun and Cas wasn’t going to go anywhere where he couldn’t follow anytime soon, so Dean silenced his king once more before turning up the pressure.

He made it sloppy. Crowley would complain about his wardrobe, but he loved the way it felt when spit slid down across his balls and got smeared there by Dean’s wandering fingers. Fingers that groped, squeezed, pulled, and tugged. Fingers that pushed further back and circled, pressed, and fucked deep.

This time, when he looked up, Crowley’s eyes were rolled back.

Worrying a finger across Crowley’s prostate, he paid close attention. If he let Crowley come before he agreed to talk, he’d need to start all over again. When he felt the telltale signs, he pulled out and off. Leaving Crowley’s dick to cool out in the open. He wiped his mouth again, smiling innocently up at the fire-red eyes of his maker.

He didn’t bother asking questions, just gave the other demon the opportunity to speak.

“Fine.” Crowley croaked, licking at his lips. “I’ll talk. Now finish me off properly you-”

Dean would have cut off Crowley’s air supply even if he hadn’t had a thing for getting choked during sex. He didn’t need to know what the king thought of him, all he’d needed was a verbal contract. Now he just had to keep to his side of it.

He spat on his fingers, shoving three of them inside of Crowley’s hole at once and tightening the noose of power as he started sucking and fucking once again. And this time he didn’t have to pay attention. This time he could keep going, and going, and going, till the demon blew inside his mouth.


	2. Chapter 2

“They seem all aloof and above worldly pleaseures,” Crowley rumbled, taking a drag from an expenseive looking cigar as. “but they’re big fucking hypocrits, the lot of them. And big is no understatement let me tell you.”

“Yeah yeah, big as the empire state building. I know. Tell me somehting I  _ don’t _ know.”

The king of hell paused, eyes disapproving.

“You have no class, squirel. No class.”

Dean raised a single eyebrow, gesturing at the dump of a bar arround them. They’d migrated back to their original seats when Crowley recovered from his orgasm and magicked his cuban from somewhere, and Dean found a nearly full bottle of apple pie vodka. It tasted a bit weird, but pie was pie was pie.

“Does this look classy to you?”

Crowley huffed, swirled his wiskey - the ice cubes supsiciously unmelted - and started talking again.

“Anyway. They’re bloody hypocites. Cause God didn’t spend his time making every angel up there. They breed.”

Dean paused halfway into another mouthful of spiced alcohol.

“They  _ breed _ ?”

“And how.” Crowley piped up, enthusiastic now. “They’re supposed to be genderless but there’s two different kinds of angels up there when it comes to making babies … or eggs, I don’t know. You’ve got your alphas and your omegas.”

Dean nodded, paying attention now if with a whole heaping helping of doubt.

“So no men and women because that would be  _ too human _ , and angels don’t fly that way. No. They’ve got their very own unique system.”

Dean sighed, why couldn’t he have remembered to include no rambling in his deal.

“Now. The alphas are the ones doing the seeding. The raging bulls, the fancy cocks, the stallions of the herd. Chasing down the soft, sweet, fertile little omegas just begging for alpha cock.”

“Seems like you’ve done your research.” Dean huffed. “Who’s your source? Rogue angel that’s selling angel porn down in the pit?”

“There’s evidence for this, darling. Ancient writings from all over the world describing angelic beings coming down to earth to engage in  _ sexual rituals _ . When their season of fun hits, they go full out.”

Dean lifted a finger off of his bottle.

“Wait. They don’t fuck up in heaven?”

“Celestial beings my dear. You do need a body to go down on.”

“So an- alpha find a dude to snuggle inside of and the omega slips into a lady and then they get pregnant?”

Crowley waved his cigar around. “That doesn’t even matter, sweetheart. Their grace makes it all work somehow. They don’t care what sex their meat suit is, just as long as they’ve got a hole to fill one way or the other.”

Dean shifted on his own stool. This all sounded … very nice.

“So if you’ve got an alpha and an omega angel and they’re both wearing dudes?”

“The omega’s ass gets all wet and waiting and the alpha pumps a baby in it.”

“Huh.”

“They don’t care, sweet cheeks. When their breeding season hits they spend a good long while fucking each other silly and then they go back to pretending they’re better than everyone else.”

“Breeding season? What are they, cats?”

“You’ve met your feather clad commander. You think he’s down to fuck whenever?”

Dean shrugged.

“Yeah. They aren’t.”

“Then why the fuck would I care? You telling me to just wait around till Cas happens to go into season and then swoop in before he finds another angel to fuck? Some pep-talk. Don’t worry, at _some_ _point_ he _might_ get horny.”

Crowley huffed, puffed on his cigar and watched the golden ember burn bright.

“Course not darling.”

Dean repressed the urge to slam his head into the bar, and then repressed the urge to slam Crowley’s head into it. Instead, he drained his bottle.

“All you need is a little baggie of Stafylinos.”

“Stafylinos?”

“Stafylinos.” Crowley repeated. Smug smile on his smug face.

“And where, pray tell, am I going to find this shit?”

Crowley's tongue traveled across his teeth as he smiled.

“You just get the sexy angel summoned somewhere comfortable, I’ll take care of the rest.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Dean?” Castiel rumbled, smoke wafting out of the bowl.

Crowley popped into existence, dumping a fist-sized bag of dust in the angel’s face before any of them could react. The thing made a very satisfying poof, and covered pretty much all of the angel’s hair, face, and shoulders in a thin film of what was probably Stafylinos. 

“Crowley! Wha-” Squinty eyes set to murder, Cas only got one and a half words out before the stuff took effect. It wasn’t exactly what Dean had expected. He’d been waiting for stormy eyes to slowly glaze over in even stormier lust. Or maybe the telltale bulge of a raging erection that needed sating between the folds of Cas’s eternal trenchcoat. 

Whatever he’d been prepared to see, Cas freezing and then collapsing was not it. Dean rounded on his demonic companion.

“The fuck Crowley? Necrophilia isn’t really my thing.”

The king of hell brushed away his knight’s anger.

“He’ll be fine. It’s a powerful bit of powder. It needs time to activate his latent estrus.” 

“Estrus?” Dean scoffed. “You think he’s going to be an omega begging for your dick?”

Crowley rolled his eyes, but Dean could see the truth there. Crowley wanted to fuck Cas. Wanted Cas to be begging for it. Wanted to see Cas’s eyes glazed with need as he stared up at them. Wanted Cas to dangle between the two of them as they satisfied his desires.

“No fucking way, man. Once he wakes up, and he better wake up, we’re going to have our hands full with a horny alpha.” Dean crouched down, rolling Cas on his back and checking the angel’s eyes. They were wide open, but no matter how close Dean poked his finger, they didn’t budge; didn’t blink.

“Have you seen how that puppy trails after you? Total omega.” Crowley ran a possessive hand down Castiel’s thigh, voice dipping lower. “I’m calling dibs on his mouth.”

Dean smiled, tongue slipping between his teeth as he cupped his angel’s cheek.

“You sure about that?” Dean traced the outline of Castiel’s lips; they were soft even if they looked dry. Crowley huffed. “What if he’s trailing after me cause he’s thinking about tapping my juicy booty?”

Doubt flitted through Crowley’s eyes, but he had no time to act on it as Castiel groaned and shifted.

“Hope warmed up your ass.” Dean chuckled.

“Dean.” Cas groaned, hand pressed against his head as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. 

“Shhhh.” Dean cooed at his waking and hopefully drugged best friend. “How you feeling?”

“I-” Cas was breathing hard, which on its own meant something strange was happening. “I don’t understand.”

“Poor baby.” Dean leaned in, lips next to Castiel’s ear. “Anything I can do to help you feel better?”

Cas turned his head, eyes locking on Dean’s and the demon grinned wide.

“Your pupils are getting big Cas. There anything you wanna tell me?”

The angel shook his head like there was water stuck in his ears, struggling into a crouch.

“Dean?”

“Right here, angel.”

Castiel was having a hard time blinking and breathing, and he pulled at his tie. Dean inched closer, already on his knees.

“That’s right, Cas. Make yourself comfortable. We want you to be comfortable.”

“Dean, what did you do?” Cas was tearing at his clothes now, buttons ripping through cloth in the face of angelic strength. 

Dean watched him strip in frantic bouts. Heat crawling up his own back, and he ached to join the angel in his nudity; his lust.

“Shh, Cas. Hey. Relax.” Taking the risk, Dean pushed even closer. Getting right into the nearly naked angel’s space. Seeing Cas like this - nearby, and very naked - was making his dick hard. “Just tell me what you need. I’m so, so willing to help you.”

Castiel’s pupils were blown wide, and he seemed to finally see Dean. See him as more than a friend, more than a hunter, more than a human … he was a willing partner. And all he needed was one word.

“Dean.”

Eyes very, very black, Dean let the angel pounce. It took no time at all to get his shirts off, but Dean had worn his skinniest jeans, and the sheer rage it induced in Castiel was worth every second of frustration it had taken to get them on. There was no placating the angel. They had to go, and they should have gone yesterday.

Once he had Dean fully stripped, he didn’t seem to know what to do with himself. Thick cock dragging against Dean’s thigh in frantic need. Dean let it happen, staring at Cas in fascination. 

“Hey, hey, Cas, shhh.” He stroked the angel’s face. It seemed to help, with Castiel slowing down even if he didn’t stop. “You have no clue, do you?”

Castiel shook his head, desperate and only partially aware of what to do about it.

“You really weren’t lying way back when, were you?”

The angel blinked, eyebrows pulling together in additional confusion.

“You know? That time we were sure this place was gonna blow, and then I tried to get you a hooker?”

Talking absolute nonsense in Enochian, Castiel nipped at Dean’s chest and neck; hips grinding away.

“Gonna finally help you get rid of your cherry, Cas. Don’t worry. I’ll help.”

Rolling Cas over took surprise and demonic strength, but the angel didn’t really fight it. Mostly because Dean grabbed hold of his dick and stroked. It placated the need to thrust, and fuck, and breed.

“You’re lucky, you know that, Cas? Cause I got myself all nice and ready for you.” 

It was just a matter of lifting up, pulling one cheek to the side, and sliding down. Cas went taut, eyes rolling back while fingers clawed at the floor. 

“Oh yeah, angel. Filling me up so perfect.”

Castiel had gone non-verbal, hands way too tight when they found purchase on Dean’s legs. He was thrusting up into Dean with nothing but enthusiasm. And while Cas had been called down to earth, Dean was in heaven. Cas was  _ perfect _ .

“Fuck. That’s it, Cas. That’s it.”

Dean leaned forward, slowly scratching down Cas’s chest. The unexpected sensation made Cas groan, fingers digging deeper into Dean’s legs. If he hadn’t been a demon his bones would have been creaking.

“Take it. Take what you want. Take it. Take me. Take me, Cas. Fuck. Do it!”

The angels still couldn’t find any words, but he was making do with guttural groans and moans interspaced with animalistic cries and stuff that was probably Enochian. Eyes wild, hair wilder. Dean sank down and stopped moving.

“Come on! Use me!” 

Cas screamed, flipping Dean over without his dick ever leaving Dean’s slicked hole. The millisecond there was solid ground beneath Dean’s back, the angel went to fucking town on him. Whatever he lacked in skills, he made up for with pure unadulterated power and drive. 

With his knees curled up and pressed near his ears, Dean let it happen. 

God Cas was good. Not technique-wise, that was pure instinctual and hot as all fuck, but he filled him  _ so  _ damn good. Big, and  _ thick _ , and he seemed to be getting bigger. Dean snuck a hand between them, playing with Castiel’s nipples and  _ fuck _ he  _ was _ getting bigger. 

Something was pulling at him. Popping out. Pushing back in. Over, and over again. Every stroke pushing at his prostate like it was getting paid for it.

He didn’t know what it was, but he did know that he’d survive it. Already a knight of hell, there were few things that would put him down for good … and really, dick like this was worth it.  

“You’re close, aren’t you?” Dean managed between thrusts. Cas just growled, bending Dean like a pretzel and biting at his neck. It made Dean’s dick jump. “Fuck! You a vampire now? Kinky- oh fu- oh- yea- yea- yea- ah! God damn, Cas. Yes!”

The angel was looking for something, shifting his teeth around from neck to jaw, to shoulder, before digging solidly into the meaty muscle connected to his neck. At the same time, the thick ball at the base of his dick popped inside of Dean’s welcoming ass and refused to come back out again.

Dean howled. He couldn’t remember ever being this full before, this stretched, this satisfyingly owned. 

Unable to pull out anymore, Cas switched from pounding to grinding. Deep and filthy with all sorts of wonderful noises slipping out around his teeth, still caught fast in Dean’s shoulder. And whatever was keeping them locked together, it was pressed right fucking down on his prostate. Worrying back and forth with each desperate grind of Cas’s hips. 

Dean wasn’t going to need a hand on him, which was good because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to reach his dick with Cas curled over him like this. He let the pleasure wash over him, abandoning any attempt at holding back.

He lost track of time. So caught up in fucking  _ Cas _ fucking him. Nothing else mattered. Just his angel and him. Here, and now. Here, and now. Here- here and- here and -oh fuck!

Dean came hard, orgasm drawn out with every single one of Castiel’s grinding strokes. The hard ball wasn’t going anywhere and it felt so good. If he’d been human it would have been too much, too fast, too intense. But demon him, demon him liked this a lot. He realized Cas was talking, English suddenly grunted into his skin.

“Mine. Mine. Mine. You’re  _ mine _ .”

There was only one answer to that. Demon or not, he’d known the words to that question ever since he first stabbed Cas.

“Fuck yeah I’m yours.” And then. “Alpha.”

With a broken whimper, Cas came too. His whole body seizing in rapture as his dick pumped come deep inside of Dean. Lots of it. Dean would have laughed at the ridiculous amounts of come filling him up - really needed to clean your pipes, didn’t you angel - if it wasn’t so over-fucking-poweringly hot. 

Cas couldn’t stop growling, hips shivering in tiny last-minute thrusts as his dick kept on giving. Dean was sure he’d feel it sloshing around inside of him afterwards.

“All yours.”


	4. Chapter 4

Crowley didn’t like being left out.

Sure, he enjoyed a good show. And this was a good show. But when it started drawing to an end, he wanted more than just front row seats.

Plus, Dean was obviously  _ his _ . And no rut driven angel was stealing his knight like this.

Castiel needed to be shown who was boss, and he knew exactly how to do just that. The angel wasn’t going to listen to words right now, he’d gone nonverbal and growly early on, which meant his intellectual levels were somewhere around panda, or pug. 

Feathers had locked himself tightly into squirrel's asshole, which meant he was stuck for the time being. Neither of them had tried moving any further than unfolding Dean and lying down to cuddle. 

Really, he was doing everyone here a favor by turning the mood back to sexy.

Except his plan … didn’t quite work out exactly like he’d envisioned it. And instead of sinking his dick into Castiel’s heavenly behind, he ended up thrown halfway across the room. Turns out Castiel’s knot  _ had _ already gone down. 

The angel followed with a flash of shadowed wings, pinning him down across the couch he’d landed on. A crackle of grace got rid of his clothes, which meant that while Cas hadn’t put his thinking cap back on he  _ had _ regained some control.

“I liked that suit, you ass!”

Castiel growled, flipping the demon king around so his ass was on display; bent over the back of the couch.

“Dean. Little help.”

“What?” Came the cynical reply. “Not man enough to handle what is obviously a soft little omega?”Dean stretched a bit and walked over to stroke a soothing hand down Castiel’s heaving back. The angel was trying to shove his dick - already hard again - inside of Crowley’s unprepped hole. “That’s not gonna work, babe.” 

Cas turned questioning eyes on Dean, clearly remembering this working quite well just half an hour ago. 

“I know. But Crowley here wasn’t as well prepared as I am.”

“Dean, you’d better not be thinking what you’re thinking. So help me-”

“You need to slick him up first. Here.”

Keeping Crowley pinned firmly in place, Castiel stopped humping the king of hell long enough to let Dean push a bottle of lube right against Crowley’s hole … and squeeze. It didn’t matter how hard the demon struggled, he was well and truly stuck. 

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” Dean pulled away with a light slap to Crowley’s ass. “There you go sweetheart, you go right ahead. I know you need it.”

Unsure, Castiel lined up slowly. Dick pressing lightly against the furled skin of Crowley’s hole before pushing inward. He slipped right in, hands creeping from the demon’s lower back to his hips in seconds. He needed the handholds, going from gentle to full-powered fucking in seconds.

Dean sauntered around the couch, perfectly at ease with his nudity even as come ran down his legs. 

“You really do have the perfect ideas, Crowley.” He grabbed the demon’s hair, sending a tendril of his power out to collect his flailing arms and pin them against his back. “Execution is a bit flawed, but the plans, those are good. Now open up.”

Crowley glared, eyes red, but he let Dean slap his dick against his face and opened his mouth anyway. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to come yell at me on [tumblr](http://ryugarika.tumblr.com/) ... feel free to, I can take it.
> 
> Comments feed me!


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